


The Hardest Part

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, post-1.04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 23:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: He's known her long enough to know that if she's gone before he's even finished getting changed it means she's avoiding him. It's not the first time and he doubts it will be the last. More often than not he just lets it go, heads home and drinks alone, wondering if he should call her, or what she'd do if he were to show up at her door without warning.Not tonight though; tonight he's going to find her.





	The Hardest Part

It's one of those nights where the show goes smoothly, perfectly to time, no glaring technical errors, no guest that Will isn't able to charm, yet he can't shake the feeling that something in the control room wasn't quite right, that something was just...off. Mackenzie was in his ear like she always is, right when she needed to be, calm yet direct, and...ah, that's it, he realises, she was in his ear when she needed to be and not a second more, whereas he never usually makes it from one commercial break to the next without regular injections of, "Don't you dare let him get away with that, Will," or "Nice job, Billy." Tonight though, there was none of that and he knows why, he knows she's upset with him and, if he's honest with himself, she has every fucking right to be.

God, he hates how he treats her sometimes, he wishes he could stop hurting her, wishes he could forget the look of pain that crosses her face when he does, for a few fleeting seconds, before she takes a quick breath, covers it with a smile and carries on.

He changes quickly and heads towards her office, ready to apologise, passing Neal who tells him most of the team will be heading to Hang Chews if he and Mac want to join them. Maybe he will tonight, he should let them know he appreciates them, that he knows how hard they work; but first he needs to find Mackenzie.

When he gets to her office, it's empty and her coat and bag are nowhere to be seen. He's known her long enough to know that if she's gone before he's even finished getting changed it means she's avoiding him. It's not the first time and he doubts it will be the last. More often than not he just lets it go, heads home and drinks alone, wondering if he should call her, or what she'd do if he were to show up at her door without warning.

Not tonight though; tonight he's going to find her.

*

Walking into Hang Chews, he spots Jim first heading to the bar and stops him. "Good show tonight, Jim."

"Oh, right." Jim looks slightly thrown off balance and Will wonders if he's really all that terrible at remembering to compliment his team. "Thanks, you too. Drink?"

"I'll get them, tell them to put it on my tab," Will says, glancing over at the table where the rest of the team is sitting.

"Yeah, great, thanks." Jim runs a hand through his hair and coughs nervously, "Um, if you're looking for Mac, she's over there," he gestures to the far end of the bar. "I did ask her to join us but she said she didn't think she'd be very good company tonight."

"Thanks, Jim," Will signals to the bartender to take Jim's order before moving down to where Mackenzie is sitting alone, staring into her almost empty glass.

Sliding onto the seat beside her, he nods his thanks as a scotch is put down in front of him along with another martini for Mac.

"You made it over here quickly," Will says, "I was barely changed and you were already long gone."

"Yeah, well," she answers but doesn't look up, "I was on a mission to start drowning my sorrows."

"Would you object to drinking with the person who's responsible for most of them?" he asks, surprised by the uncertainty he hears in his own voice.

"I never object to drinking with you, Billy." She looks up at him, a small, sad smile on her face. "You know that."

"Jim said you didn't feel up to joining them." Will takes a drink and watches as Mac does the same.

"Not really," she shrugs, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the bar. "They're all in such a good mood and I'm...sometimes I feel like- oh, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Mackenzie," he reaches over and places his hand over hers, stilling her fingers and watching as her eyebrows raise. "You feel like what?"

"You'll laugh," she says.

"I won't, I promise," he squeezes her hand before pulling away. "Well, I guess I might."

"It's just that sometimes I feel like their mum, crashing their party, you know?" she laughs softly as she watches him stifle a smile.

"Christ, Mac, what does that make me, their fucking grandpa?" he nudges her shoulder with his and she laughs again, louder this time and he's somewhat gratified to see the smile reach her eyes.

They sit in silence for a moment and Will signals for two more drinks.

"You trying to get me drunk, Billy?" she asks and she drains the last of her drink, "because if that's your plan, I think it might just work out for you."

"I'm sorry for all that shit with the contracts," he says, avoiding eye contact because he knows if he looks at her, he'll stop talking and if he stops for even a second he might rethink what he's about to say and he wants her to hear it. "I had no idea you were coming back. I was completely blindsided and I reacted the way I always do. I got angry, I panicked, I thought I wouldn't be able to stand being around you so I agreed on the basis that I had the option to fire you at the end of each week. The non-compete clause was the trade-off and, fuck, it was a shitty thing to do. I'm sorry, I really am."

"It's ok." She says nothing for a few seconds and he doesn't know what she's thinking. "I don't blame you, not really. When I first came back, you needed to punish me, I get that, but it's been over a year now and I thought things were getting better, I thought we were-"

"They are better," Will interrupts, leaning closer, his eyes fixed on hers. "So much better. It's still in the contract but only because it's a pain in the ass to try and change, but that's the only reason, I swear. It doesn't mean a damn thing, I have absolutely no intention of firing you. I like what we're doing and I wouldn't want-"

He stops when he feels her hand come to rest on his, her fingers tracing shapes across his skin so gently that he wonders if she's even aware she's doing it. Before he can think about what he's doing, his free hand moves to cup her face, his thumb running across her cheekbone as she closes her eyes against his touch.

"I don't want to do it with anyone but you," he tells her, quietly but with absolute certainty.

"Good," she says, so quietly that if he wasn't so close to her he doesn't think he would have heard her at all.

He drops his hand and they sit in comfortable silence until Will gestures towards the table where their staff seems to be getting more drunk with every passing minute.

“I don't think they'd be disappointed at you crashing their party, you know. Me, probably, but not you," he says. "I get the sense they think you're pretty cool."

"Cool!," She snorts. "I've never been cool in my life. You know what though, Billy?" 

"What?" he asks, amused.

"I'm totally cool with not being cool. Maybe not being cool is actually cool. Maybe the uncool are now the cool." She stops, frowning. "Hell, now cool doesn't even sound like a real word."

He's not sure how he missed it but he suddenly realises she's quite a bit more drunk than he realised.

"Did you eat?" he asks, knowing that drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea where Mac is concerned.

"No." She shakes her head. "Not tonight anyway." 

"Then we're going to eat dinner," he replies, firmly.

"Fuck that, I'll take my chances on alcohol poisoning before I eat dried tuna on a fucking stick," she says, wrinkling her nose in disgust and taking another gulp of her martini.

"I wasn't talking about the shit they eat," he says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the rest of the staff. "They're young, stomachs of steel and all that. I was talking about getting out of here and grabbing some real dinner."

"Billy?" She looks at him and frowns slightly as he stands up and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Dinner, Mac. A meal traditionally eaten in the evening, often in the company of others, in this case you in the company of me." He smirks, sliding his hands down her arms before pulling back. "Don't overthink it. I'm just not sure three martinis constitutes a nutritious dinner."

"Five. Five martinis. I got a head start on you, anchor man." She leans closer and prods him in the chest, before she continues. "I'm still not drunk enough for tuna jerky though."

Will laughs and watches as she stands up and reaches for her coat, fighting the urge to touch her again, fighting it with everything he has but knowing it's a fight he can't win, he never could. She's standing in front of him smiling, her eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and god, she's beautiful. He wishes he could just tell her that he's never stopped loving her, that he would give anything to be with her again but he knows it isn't the right time; things are getting better and he really is trying but he isn't there yet, he knows that. Instead he takes her hand and starts to move towards the door, waving goodnight to the rest of the staff as they pass, ignoring Jim's almost comical expression and raised eyebrows as he spots their joined hands. They'll be the office gossip tonight, he thinks, but he'll let them have it for now.

As he pushes through the door and the cold night hits him, he tightens his grip on Mackenzie's hand and thinks they might just be okay.


End file.
